The Outpost RP. Fantasy Medieval Setting. S01E02 : Caravans and Goblin Hookers

[Demonjazz]

Aldhelm saw the obvious attempt of Desaya trying to cover up her blush. Now I really want to know what happened!
What is with you and that cat?
Aldhelm took a look down at his pants and tried to move to a comfortable position in the tight pants. "Yeah, this definitely looks like something a male elf would wear, Good of a starting point as any." As Aldhelm got up to find any potential clues as to where the rest of his stuff was he spotted a dwarf walking across the bar with a familiar looking sapphire adorned to a sword that he held in a scabbard. "Hey! You! Where did you get that sword?!"
"Oh, some idiot in leather armour lost it in a bet while he was drunk last night."
"I'm that idiot, thank you very much! Now give me that sword! It was a parting gift from both my parents! They were both famous knights, Sir Grayson, and Lady Bridgett! You would not like to trifle with their son!"
"Famous knights you say? I bet I could get quite a pretty penny for a sword like this than" The dwarf said as held the sword up to the light
"Well if you aren't going to give my property to me. I'll make a wager," He said as he suddenly sucker punched the dwarf in the stomach making the weapon clatter to the ground. "Who ever beats the other up first gets the sword! You accept!" He said as he quickly scooped open the weapon and started running out of the bar at head speed as the dwarf chased after him. He eventually got to the stables as he found his beautiful steed Percival and rode off towards the square to sign up for work. He eventually got to the front of the line.
"Got any jobs sir? Ones that a man with morals could take preferably... A man with morals that desperately needs money."
Shouldn't you get your shit first? You ever seen yourself in battle? Your nothing without your armour... Also someone stole your lance... Probably in more ways than one.
Aldhelm rattled off a long list of incredibly specific details about his lance, a couple details about his armour, mainly telling of the time he got a fireball thrown at him that gave his armour a fist sized burn mark on the left side, the details he gave about his shield was mainly about how shitty it was.

 

[Thomas Barnsley]

It was the small hours of the morning, the day after the closure of the pass, and Bo Clung had already been up for half an hour completing his ritual exercises.
Dressed in nothing but a snug loincloth the monk made Evelyn's shop his dojo; counting the usual ten minutes controlled breathing, stepping through Tai Chi patterns, pumping out vertical handstand pushups, holding splits across a pair of wooden benches, and of course taking a huge dump (for which his dojo was briefly relocated to the privy).

As a crowing cockerel ushered in the dawn, Bo took his business to the basement. He gathered up his ghoul-spattered robes, and was about to go down stairs when he noticed the priest still fast asleep on the floor. A thought came to his impassive mind.
Bo strode quietly to his side and knelt, plucking Yannick's socks out from his boots. He held them up for a sniff, and was not at all surprised to find that they maintained a rather rancid odour. This would not do, he thought. The loincloth-bedecked monk gave his prone companion a nudge, yet elicited nothing but a snore.
Foregoing the slothenly gweilo's permission with a disapproving scowl, Bo added the cultist darks to his bundle and padded away to the basement well.

A while later he began to hear whipcracks and terrified evangelation from above. Bo paid it little heed, being more disposed at present to the removal of a stubborn chunk of cerebellum lodged in the hem-work.

 

[Thomas Barnsley]

With the soul-crushing sermon concluded, the basement door banged open to reveal Bo in all his loinclothed glory. In one hand was a bucket of dirty cleaning water, in the other was a bundle of clean clothes. The latter he tossed across the room to his priest friend. Yannick was somewhat startled by the sudden appearance of the chiseled figure in his underwear. He made a grab for the laundry. Ah, so that's why he couldn't find his socks this morning. (His favourite pair. They had little skulls embroidered round the ankle.)
"Good morning!" he added, hastily covering the eyes of the stunned child.
Bo spared the priest a glance as he walked straight past and out the front door. It was probably the best Yannick would get from the taciturn easterner.

The morning chill bothered Bo little, even without the robe, which was still drying back in the shop. The odd looks he received from passersby bothered him even less. Bo Clung had a job to do; empty the necrotic, feet-infused laundry waste somewhere that wouldn't offend his kind, fireball-tossing hostess.
He turned his head slowly from side to side, searching for a place/person where it would be appropriate/funny to pour the waste. It was whilst doing this that he noticed something else... Something interesting. A poster, on the stone wall opposite the Yanakov premises. It had a big juicy looking number printed across it...

The front door opened and Bo reentered the shop. The bucket was empty, but in his other hand was a newly acquired sheet of parchment. He strode straight up to Yannick as he sat pulling on his socks and shoved the poster under his nose. Yannick had a look at the faded, misspelt advertisement.
"What's this? 'FinD the basTurd wots killng are Wimmin. big reWard.' Sorry, Bo, I haven't killed any women recently, you should ask - oh, you mean WE should find this person! Excellent plan. Tzarpedon disapproves of all murder that is not in His name."
Passing the poster back to Bo, he mumbled something about the money not being a bad idea either. Yannick tucked the Void Tome back into the depths of his robes, and was struck by a sudden thought.
"Er, if we're going off to solve crimes, you might want to put some clothes on. Just a suggestion."

 

[Mr.Ivebeenframed]

"I need to take a bath then..." Zenobia said, her anger simmering down as the others began to come to. What had truly happened would forever be a mystery to her but at least she was in one piece for the most part. No one had stolen anything except for maybe her vows but otherwise she had to move on. That was when she watched the scuffle that happened between the hero and a dwarf. The hero ran straight out of the bar with his sword with the dwarf in hot pursuit. She was too hungover to react properly so all Zenobia did was roll her eyes. We're supposed to work with him too...

Zenobia sighed and took a seat. "With or without our hero, we need to get going. I'm sure this tab will add up to our debt and the only way to pay off this debt is to get the contracts. " The Beggar's Banquet had ended which means they might missed out on meeting the Guild and make some potential contracts. Now, they had to search them out themselves. "Ready to go?" Zenobia asked the pair.

 

[booksv3]

Desaya drags herself away from the counter slowly. Arching herself and rolling her spine like only a cat can do she gives a complicated stretch as she purrs low. Finally ending it with a popping sounds as she straightens up Desaya looks at the blood mage first the the large bug and sighs.
"Lets find the Hero and get a contract. I know im low on coin and im sure you both are as well."

Desaya gives the still empty tavern where they are standing another look and makes a face, mumbling to herself.
"And i need to get away from any place that smells this bad, i can feel my brain melting."

She turns and starts towards the door, pausing as a still drunk male elf falls down the stairs just at the edge of her sight. Turning when she see's that its a weird shape she takes in the skinny elf in nothing but armor, which isnt that weird really seeing where they are. But it was the same armor as the hero had been wearing last night and she was sure he never would have given it away. Something about his hero aspect made her think that he would rather have given blood than his armor, almost as much as he seemed to like his sword.

Walking over to the still body and flipping it over Desaya gags as a wave of rot smell comes from it, the smell coming from its pores. Shaking her head and pulling at the armor the male elf mumbles something offensive about his preferred type of play mate. Giving him another glare and flipping him back on his back she starts to search for the buckles when she sees the back has been written on. Gulping slowly she considers leaving it with the elf before shaking herself and unbuckling it, jerking the armor off its to lean body and moving back eyeing him to make sure he is to drunk to notice. Turning back to Zen who had been watching Desaya shrugs and says/
"Better a meat shield with some leather on it than bare. I wonder what he will make of this."

Turning it around she shows Zen and the bug the message written on the back.

You were great for a virgin, come see me again hero boy.

~Hierian

 

[Iron]

Spoiler: OOC

Collab with Yannick and Bo.

Bo Clung, have dressed and equipped himself, slid the crumpled job advertisement into his robe and ascended once more to the ground floor. Stick in hand he clunked his way over to the counter and caught Yannick's barely perceptible eyes.
He pointed towards the front door with his staff, then looked behind him to indicate the passage leading upstairs. He shrugged.

The morning came onto the outpost, and with it the dark news of the day. Every day had some, but this day was the worst. Eve sat her two children down, the youngest was Nim, a boy of six and the eldest daughter Lila, at the ripe age of eleven. They were treated to candy in the morning, a set of smiles and instructions not to go downstairs. Eve began the task of telling her two children what had happened, opting to leave out most of the story and supplement it with something less murderous and more heroic. Their father was once an adventurer, after all that was why she fell in love with him. The task wasn't simple, but she carried through. She drew water from the well at the basement of the house and hoisted it up, leaving a bucket at the shop on the first floor for her two guests. She saw that one of them, the peculiar silent one, was already wide awake and in the middle of a training session. She didn't disturb him and walked up to the second floor. What happened next she did not expect even one bit.

'Mommy', Nim startled her with a loud cry, 'I don't have to be sad anymore'. His smile was quite jarring to experience, especially after the hardships she endured to make herself tell the two of their fathers' tale. 'Once Tzarpedon gets here and destroys us all, we will get to meet with daddy again!'. There was an ominous pause.

'YANNICK', she dropped the bucket and screamed as she raced down to the first floor. 'Get your heathen ass right here, right now!'.

The owner of the aforementioned heathen ass paused in the middle of packing his things together, and wondered if he could outrun a fireball. The odds were not favourable. He gave Eve a sheepish wave as she stormed in.

'What the-', Eve stopped, looked back at the staircase and then back at Yannick, narrowed her eyes and walked closer, her heavy steps putting a few jolts down his spine. 'Impercta Dark', she waved her hand and a sort of a bubble enveloped the two, refusing to let any sound out.

'Yannick, you, you motherfucking preacher, what shit have you been feeding my kid?'

Perhaps he should have taken his chances with the fireball.

"Well, the thing is...er...I was just trying to help, you see...the boy was upset - charming fellow, by the way, he's got your eyes - I just thought I'd mention that his grief is inherently futile since we are all destined to be consumed in the churning hatred of the inescapable Void, and so forth...I say, what lovely carpet you have..."

'Oh, um, thank yo-uh!'. Eve narrowed her brows and stared the cleric down with eyes of brimstone and fire. 'Don't do that again', she snapped her fingers and the bubble burst, leaving no trace of it behind.

'Mommy?', the small child was standing behind her on the stairs, 'What did you say in the quiet place to Mister Yannick?'.

Before anyone could attempt to broach the sensitive issue of cult indoctrination with little Nim, Bo Clung suddenly appeared from the privy.

He wore nothing but a rank-ass motherfucking loincloth.

The stoic one was standing in the edge of the room with nothing but a piece of soiled cloth around his privates. 'The hell-', her neck snapped back towards her son, and then back at the naked bugger.

'Get dressed, damn it, there are kids here!'.

"Honestly, Bo, you'll frighten the children," Yannick piped up, glad for the distraction. He only hoped that he'd be out of the house before Eve realised that he'd given her son directions to the local Church of Tzarpedon.

Bo nodded, but first he seemed to want to raise an important matter with the arguing pair. He quickly crossed the room to Yannick's side, produced the guild advertisement from god-knows-where along the way, and stuffed it into his hand. Pausing at the top of the staircase Bo turned back to them, pointing directly from Yannick, to the poster, to Eve, then back to Yannick.
With this message conveyed, he then removed his limber self from their presence.

Yannick held up the crumpled, strangely warm poster with distaste.

"Eve, what do you know of this? Has somebody been killing people in this neighbourhood? More than the usual rate of surburban murderings, that is."

There wasn't much to say besides 'Huh' when Eve painfully read through the poster and tried to ignore the horrible writing. 'That's not happening here-', she walked past Yannick and further away from Nim, who decided to play with a set of miniature enchanted figurines. They were fighting each other to the death, or until their master said otherwise. Nim was cheering for the red one to knock the blue one's head clean off.

Eve whispered, 'There aren't any Goblins in the walls, you're looking for the Palisade area... maybe you should go and ask in the guild about it'.

Yannick nodded, tucking the poster inside his robes. "The Guild seems like the best place to start, then. Thanks again for your hospitality." He headed for the door, before turning and inclining his head in a somewhat reverent gesture. "May Tzarpedon slaughter you last."

'Fuck off'

Eve replied merrily before the cleric left. 'What are you still doing here?', she asked the stoic grave-digger. 'Go get your boyfriend. Tell him you can stay here again, but stay away from my kids. I always wanted a guard-hound'.

Bo Clung, who had finally condescended to dress, gave his hostess a look. It was a well practiced look, one which he had perfected over the years into something that said to its recipient, with only a small degree of uncertainty, 'how the fuck do you expect me to tell anyone anything?'

Other than that one look, Bo remained as impassive as ever. He gave Eve a bow, then whirled to follow Yannick out the door, stick thudding dully on the floorboards as he walked.

Sidestepping the brainy puddle, the priest/monk duo set off to the guild. They kept up a brisk pace, knowing that others would have seen posters just like theirs, and may already be on the job. There was no reward for second place...
Before too long they had arrived back at Square One. After appreciating the irony, they lost no time in questioning the first unoccupied clerk to cross their path.

He was once a prince in a forgotten realm beyond the sea, cast aside from his throne by his uncle, the young aquatian humanoid dolphin found himself dealing with rugged assholes in the wasteland, some half of a world away from where he started.

'Fuck my life. Yes, how can I help you two cunts?'.

Confused, Yannick checked over his shoulder, but no - it seemed that the fishy gentleman was indeed talking to them. How impolite.

"Good morning, there! Interesting weather, isn't it? Anyway, my friend and I heard something about murdered goblins, and a reward of some kind. Know anything about that?"

'Murdered...Goblins?'. The dolphin's finn twitched, and he let out a series of clicks and squawks, which would have been interpreted as laughter by anyone familiar with that aquatic humanoid-dolphin race. 'Goblins get murdered all the time, it's their place to get killed...', he noticed the other one holding up a notice.

'Oh'. The clerk looked through the pile of notes on his desk, searching for something specific. He continued the conversation without lifting his head from the desk. 'Palisade waste, domesticated Goblins. There was a contract for it somewhere... Apparently there's a serial killer who likes Goblin hookers. Some pimps put a contract to stop-', he pulled one note from the pile, turned it around and placed it on the desk so the two humans could read it.

'Here are the details', he pointed at the top of the note, 'Eleven victims so far, reward is four gold and eight silver, pretty good... Asking for tolerant trackers, something about detective work... Here it is - ask for Crongi, he's one of the pimps, down in Palisade. You can find him at "Green delight". Good name for a goblin whorehouse'

The novice bounty hunters thanked the aquatic humanoid-dolphin, leaving for the Green Delight with all due haste. They trusted in their chastity/stoicism to protect them from the nastier penile infections that they were sure to encounter.

 

[booksv3]

Stiffening as the clerk spits at him and grunts for him to leave after pulling the paper back already starting to shuffle through them for the next piece for the person behind him Jack inches his hand towards the end of the scythe sticking out he stops as he looks around at the other people here to gather bounty's. Grunting and taking a deep draw on his pipe he breaths out in the clerks face and turns away, walking away from the line and through the stalls to the thinning area behind where different people who had been given different jobs or even the same one talked and exchanged insults most of the time.

Walking through them and still taking deep pulls on his pipe and letting it trickle out behind him. Jack pulls his pipe from between his teeth and lifts his right leg to tap the back against his hoof getting the left over tobacco to the street before pulling another pinch of it from his pouch and stuffing it tight. Using a small wooden dowel to pack it in he is looking down at that and bumps into some human riding a horse and talking to his sword like a loobie. Looking up to snarl at him Jack sees that he is riding the same horse he had seen before next to that tavern.

Stopping and watching him go past Jack sighs at the injustice in the world that such a fine animal had to serve such a crack brain. Picking up his speed with his hooves and his dowel he pops the pipe back between his teeth and lights a stick on a lantern before lighting up again. Moving towards where he was told to go before that clerk had gotten rude Jack takes a deep pull on his pipe and sighs as the burning smoke slides down into his lungs to settle for a few seconds. Letting it come back up and trickle through his nose Jack smiles slightly and speeds up. Passing houses and taverns and blacksmiths and all kinds of shops he shakes his head at all the kinds of people and places he passes. So many with a half dead looks or who used to be adventurers, more than once he heard old men and woman sitting for little kids talking about their old storys and at least one of them ending with him taking an arrow to the knee.

Looking around and remembering where that annoying clerk had said Jack can soon see a group of people waiting, all of them almost quarter moon arranged around someone else who looked a lot more official... and clean... than any of the others. Walking up to the waiting people and looking them over Jack breaths out a smoke stack worth of pipe smoke before speaking to the one standing facing them.
"Caravan guards?"

 

[JoJo]

Mehadi studied the note Desaya was holding momentarily, she had to admit she didn't really understand what it was about but pretended to look interested all the same so she didn't appear ignorant.

"Yes, we need to make some coin," she hissed in agreement, "I won't be paying a shilling of that widow's debt though, I didn't come here with the intention of doing so and I didn't appreciate either of you talking for me whilst I was under an illusion!" she clicked her mandibles together threateningly to reinforce her point.

 

[Demonjazz]

Alhelm noticed the dolphin man, and had been staring rather stupefied at for quite some time. The monk, and cultist had already left by the time he even noticed anything other than a walking dolphin. Hey! Hey Idiot! Hey! Do you think that you might be forgetting something important that has something to do with actually making a living!
That's a walking dolphin! How does it do that... Doesn't it need water to live... A dolphin's a big fish right?
Hey! Those people the dolphin were talking to! They had work! Remember how much you like living! You need money to live! They're Investigating a murderer, help those common people you like!
Wait they were?! Ah, shit!
Aldhelm caught up to Bo, and Yannick on his horse. "Hello fellow adventurers! I see that you're in need of an extra member in your adventuring group. I assure you that I can get information for this case very easily. We're all in debt together after all!"

 

[suspicious guard]

Yannick peered up at the man on the horse with a degree of suspicion. His internal nearby-diabolical-or-otherwise-highly-malevolent alarm was going off, plus in his experience there was always something weird about a person wearing trousers that tight. Still, the chap had gone out of his way to be friendly, which was more than could be said for...literally everyone else he'd met in this city.

"Hello there!" He replied cheerfully. "I'm Brother Yannick, and this is my good friend Bo Clung. He has a stick and doesn't talk to people. We're conducting an investigation! Tell me, sir, how many goblin prostitutes have you murdered in the last few weeks?"

 

[Thomas Barnsley]

Bo Clung held up his poster in tandem with Yannick's introduction. He was finding the prop extremely useful in all his encounters thus far.

Shame it had to be of such terrible quality...

 

[Mr.Ivebeenframed]

"I won't be paying a shilling of that widow's debt though, I didn't come here with the intention of doing so and I didn't appreciate either of you talking for me whilst I was under an illusion!

"I apologize, Mehadi." Zenobia said, everything from last night starting to come back to her except for the more exciting parts. "We had to keep talking otherwise that man would have gotten us gutted." Zenobia double-checked that she had everything she had before looking out on the roads which began to fill up with groggy party-goers and workers. "Come on, let's get going."

Zenobia lead them back to Square One where they all had met and hopefully would continue to meet until they were done with this abysmal place. She found herself in line with a few adventurers already ahead of them. The clerk seemed to be one of the sea-folk. She had heard much about them but it was rare to find one so far north. They always liked the more temperate areas but this place did have a unique ability of drawing in people from all walks of life to most likely kill them. Zenobia hoped she wouldn't be one of them but also she wondered what their blood tasted like. As she waited, she scanned the crowd and sighted the hero once more. He was talking to what seemed to be a priest and a monk which seemed like an odd duo. She pointed to them for Desaya and Mehadi.

"There's our hero." Zenobia said with much sarcasm. "It seems like he already forgotten us."

 

[booksv3]

Desaya looks at the two who the hero was talking to and narrows her eyes.
"Those are the two who went to bury the zombie of mine with that woman."

Looking at the other two and smiling slowly Desaya hefts the leather breastplate and walks over to the three, stepping up and tossing the written on leather armor piece o the surprised hero and winks at him as she says.
"Here you go hero boy. Your partner from last night had this and because I'm nice I'm returning it."

Turning and looking at the two others she smiles lightly at them.
"Hope burying the zombie was fine. Well, maybe we team up at some point in the future."

Turning back to the hero on the horse Desaya smiles wickedly.
"I hope sitting on that doesn't hurt to much. After last night."

Desaya turns away and walks back to Zen and the bug still smiling evilly.

 

[Demonjazz]

Aldhelm was about to answer Yannick's question that seemed to no only come out of left-field, but to go past the field, past the street, and somehow end up two miles away in your neighbor's yard, but was much more interested in what the hell would be written on the back of his armour. He quickly read it and his face seemed to somehow become a mix of utter confusion, terror, and shock for about two seconds before he slammed his armour against his chest to cover up the writing, and put on a stern emotionless face. "I'm sorry everybody, but I'm going to have to wash my armour, and put it on for this adventure... Be back... At some time. Take care of Percival for me while I'm gone." He said in a dull, emotionless tone while stepping off his horse, and running off in some random direction."

 

[booksv3]

Desaya laughs as the hero runs away after making a few words at the two he had been talking to. Looking around and grabbing Zen's shoulder for a second she points at the stalls with what looks like clerks behind them and smiles to herself.
"Come on, lets get something and start paying of our depts. All the dept."

Shaking her head at the memory of just how much they have Desaya starts walking towards the stalls. She had heard something about hookers or something when she had been walking up to return the armor and she didn't want the same job as the hero just yet, more so because she didn't want to have to deal with any more of these city people. Stepping in line and humming snatches of songs from where she had grown up Desaya passed the time till its her turn to get in line. Clicking her claws on the table and leaning against it she smiles at the worn out clerk.
"Something outside please."

 

[Iron]

"Caravan guards?"

'Aye, aye', the human sergeant hollered over the sound of the other adventurers. 'Three gold coins and whatever shit the scavengers haven't found are yours, while ye accompany this here caravan. I'll take yer names for later, but expect the pay at the end. I don't expect to pay the lot of you just yet - ye weaklings won't survive the fooking walk there, I tells ye'. He was copper-skinned and sported a set of lavish tattoos all over his exposed skin, much more underneath his chain shirt. 'Get yer bearings... We leave in 'alf and hour, down south to a Goblin Stronghold, now empty as me belly. Speaking of which...', he hauled a heavy flax bag and dropped it on the floor. Inside were several loafs of bread, wheels of cheese and some dried pieces of mystery meat.

'Part of the pay. Eat up, ye wankers, and don't forget te clean yer blades 'fore we go'. There were at least two dozen guards at the place, ranging from halfling casters and deer-headed demigods with a freaking death-wish.

'Something outside please'

'Hmm?', the clerk noticed a cute furry girl in front of him and smiled at her sheepishly before looking down at his notes. 'T-there's some work outside, yes, yes, a caravan is due in half an' hour at the Palisade gate to the east. Three gold coins, good pay, but you best hurry!'.

 

[booksv3]

'Aye, aye. Three gold coins and whatever shit the scavengers haven't found are yours, while ye accompany this here caravan. I'll take yer names for later, but expect the pay at the end. I don't expect to pay the lot of you just yet - ye weaklings won't survive the fooking walk there, I tells ye. Get yer bearings... We leave in 'alf and hour, down south to a Goblin Stronghold, now empty as me belly. Speaking of which...'

'Part of the pay. Eat up, ye wankers, and don't forget te clean yer blades 'fore we go'[/b]

Jack looks at the much tattooed person and reaches down to grab one of the loaves and a hunk of cheese. Using his strong fingers to tear the loaf in half and slapping the cheese in the middle he starts to eat as he steps away from the now crowding group who also want a bite. Stepping a few feet away and eating half the make shift sandwich Jack puts the other half in his saddlebag for later along with the vegetables he had grabbed before.

Reaching back and twisting his back to watch he undoes the straps holding his scythe in and pulls it out. the blade an easy two and a half feet to three long he runs his palm down the blade slowly to check for warps and other imperfections that might be there. Grunting in satisfaction when he finds none he pulls a grinding stone from the outside pocket of his saddle bag and starts slowly sharpening his blade as he eyes the rest of the party. Most of them were still eating and a few had already forgotten what the copperskinned man had said about their blades.

Shaking his head and mentally figuring something out it take Jack several minutes to come up with the answer, how many of these people will survive past the there journey and who might fall on the way back. Sighing softly and giving his blade one last slide of the stone to get rid of the hookhang before testing it on his thumb and smiles when he finds it is just as sharp as he had wished. Jack holds his scythe in his hands for a few more seconds as he tests the weight, glancing around before giving it a few full swings and going through a few steps of his practice before stopping and sliding his blade back in its sheath but not snapping it closed. Just leaving it in the holder so he can draw it quickly.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------

'Hmm? T-there's some work outside, yes, yes, a caravan is due in half an' hour at the Palisade gate to the east. Three gold coins, good pay, but you best hurry!'.

Taking a few seconds to think it over for a second Desaya nods and turns to Zen and the large bug with an impish smile.
"Im taking this one. Meet you there if you want it, but as he said. Might want to hurry."

Turning away from them and sprinting past the stalls and through the alleys Desaya jumps over a bending over dwarf and laughs out loud as he sends curses after her running back. Spinning past carts and other people walking she ducks inside a tavern and through to the back leaving two patrons spitting their beer and another catwoman yowling because of a stomped on tail. Ducking out of the back door and running down the street she almost runs into a large body. Making herself slow after dodging the centaur who had been settling something in his side. Walking around him and up to someone who looked a lot more experianced than most of the waiting people she pants as she offers her hand to shake.
"Desaya, magic user. Here for the caravan job."

Breathing hard and leaning against her knees she looks down at the half empty bag of food. Glancing at the others waiting and grabbing some of the meat and cheese she steps to the side as she munches on them and catches her breath. Shaking her head at the toll the run had had on her.

 

[Thomas Barnsley]

It seemed to Bo that at one moment he had been converged upon by a force of intrepid adventurers like himself, and then next thing he knew the whole crowd had scattered off in all directions for various reasons.

EXCEPT, of course, for the homosexual's horse.

Bo Clung took the reigns of this horse, stroking it's mane as he looked around for the owner, counting down the myriad of things one could use such a beast if he failed to show up in a timely fashion. He was feeling a little peckish...

 

[JoJo]

Mehadi shrugged her insect shoulders as she gobbled up as much of the meat and cheese before her as she could fit between her mandibles, she didn't care where the dried flesh had came from originally or what condition it was in, she wasn't going to say no to free food. The caravan job didn't sound complicated, especially with her wings she would be able to soar out of any trouble if it got too heated. She only hoped her new companions were up to scratch, glancing up between a mouthful of cheese they seemed to be mostly scrawny humanoids with varying amounts of fur covering their bodies.

"What I would give for a few trustworthy soldier caste valma," Mehadi muttered to herself under her breath, "Now, they know how to guard,"

 

[Mr.Ivebeenframed]

"Im taking this one. Meet you there if you want it, but as he said. Might want to hurry."

Zenobia watched as Desaya run off feeling slightly better that they got the job. But in this world, getting a job was one thing but going through with it was another. This caravan job would be good for her in the sense that she wouldn't be outright targeted in a pitched battle. She had seen caravans and even ran with a few to get some coins. Zenobia knew for a fact that any half-decent caravan was guarded with at least a dozen sellswords or actual soldiers so a bloodmage like her could fit right in.

She made her way there as the sun slowly began to take its usual place in the sky. The streets began to fill with the busy denizens of the city and for a split-second, Zenobia felt a bit nostalgic. Ayadine was a thousand times cleaner than this city but there was a certain level of griminess within the metropolis. She knew firsthand how life could be cruel to those scrapping the bottom of the barrel. Zenobia had lost count how many times she had to scrounge through garbage just to find a decent meal at least growing up. It wasn't until she was in the Order that she was able to eat a regular meal on a regular basis and speaking of meals.

"Oh my..." Zenobia said as food greeted her nostrils and eyes. It had occurred to her stomach that she hadn't eaten in quite some time so it growled at the sight of food. Mehadi had no trouble making her way to the food and began to consume food at a rate she hand't seen before. In between Mehadi shoving food into her mandibles, she grabbed a loaf of bread, some meat and cheese as well. Zenobia took a few bites to calm down her stomach as she looked at this ragged group of adventurers that would unite under the common cause of getting money. A centaur was with them which was greatly needed because of how dangerous they were on open ground although their blood tasted a bit too salty for her liking.

"What I would give for a few trustworthy soldier caste valma, now, they know how to guard."

Zenobia turned to Mehadi who muttered something about the valma she didn't quite know about. "I don't hear too much about these soldier valma. Are they as... intimidating as you are?" Zenobia asked as politely as she could.